


birds are our song

by quirós (tonightsobright)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Gen, Loneliness, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Modern Era, Road Trips, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7281880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonightsobright/pseuds/quir%C3%B3s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“can a lonely heart still beat if there's no one around to listen?”</p>
<p>two lonely hearts with a soft spot for beauty. 12 dreams yet to be fulfilled. a very odd road trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	birds are our song

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this fic was inspired by the song "a bird is a song" by chris walla (I will begin each chapter with a lyric) so to get the full vibe I recommend you check it out. I also want to point out that sansa and sandor's relationship in this story is way too complicated to label it as romantic or platonic, so you figure it out. in later chapters I might introduce some other characters like tyrion and ramsay and I might add some more violent content (still attempting to write it in a pretty and chill way though, gotta keep the vibe going) anyway without further ado, I hope you enjoy it! comments are well appreciated x

“colorado, can you hear me?  
are you listening?  
are you even there?  
do you hear me?  
do you even care?”

sansa stark's flaming hair was wildfire to the purple sky and crimson dead woods that raised her. a child of the mountains, her father used to say. he didn't seem to have much to say now that he was gone.  
walking away. home wouldn't keep her safe. mom wouldn't keep her safe. these caging, sickly menacing mountains, wouldn't keep her safe. her baggage consisted of a couple of jumpers, a pale canary dress and a jar of feathers she'd been collecting for years. the rest, she had it on.  
her worn out pyjamas, made off her father's old clothes, pitch black woodland boots, pockets filled with bubblegum pink lipstick and sunflower oil samples she'd stolen from the mall for no particular reason, an apple butter candle, a box filled with blue-headed matches. no phone, she'd left it at home, notes app open:

"gonna take a long stroll,  
perhaps I'll see you all  
again one day"

clear water was seeping through the leaves gifting her dawn with a rusty flavour. she thought of home, again.  
she missed missing something and she knew she'd miss it one day. catelyn stark would be the first to shed a shaky tear upon her phone screen, through it the light produced by the device would sway in iridescent games of colour: within would start a dance of liquid pixels, a clash of distorted visions of a goodbye note.  
maybe in all this chaos her mother would finally find peace. 

picking up flowers and impossible dreams, that's what sansa was good at. and so there she was, stalking the woods in her night robes, twelve flowers intertwined with her hair and twelve dreams in her head;

1\. to get out of here  
2\. to get nowhere

would she be missed?  
can a lonely heart still beat if there's no one around to listen?  
the fear of dirt haunted her every step: purity was the only thing she could hold on to. 

3\. to set fire to every memory  
4\. to be left alone with a decaying autumn 

the air was vibrant with morrow promises; bees announcing their early song somewhere in that honeyed rose sky, stormy emeralds awaking in the fields, water spirits hatching upon a splatter of sweet oranges and butterscotch yellows and sansa stark's quiet song, embroiled with the layers of morning.  
her breakfast: a lavender lemon chocolate bar, lemongrass and ginger tea in a porcelain cup hiding in the rose garden in the backyard.

5\. to run into a shadow  
6\. to chase the light away together 

by the end of the pathway there stood a man with a half-burnt face and a half-burnt heart holding a can of mojito soda. the chirping of the birds crowned his frightening aura in safe sounds, sansa was not afraid. she'd seen the man before. big ink black eyes looked up from the ground and ascended like a shadow towards her; disgraceful, delicate, he locked eyes with her pretty little body.  
the man was leaning over his chevrolet colorado and she noticed he seemed to fit oddly well in the eerie frame of the flaming ocean of trees, a big lumbering beast come down from the mountains. 

7\. to find home in a stranger  
8\. to defy the laws of silence

“are you scared, little bird?”  
his words hovered in the air like mint-flavoured bubbles. she examined his blemished juniper shirt, his ripped leather jacket, his threadbare doc martens, his badly torn jeans, his lacerated soul. there was nothing quite as heartbreaking as the stench of loneliness he emanated. something so raw and so frail, bulletproof skin, impregnable heart.  
sandor clegane looked lovely caught in the gushing sunlight of dawn.  
“you won't hurt me.” she said.

9\. to seduce the perfume of smoke  
10\. to indulge in the pleasure of letting go

when sansa stood before him, the hound appeared more frightened than she'd ever be. the sun's clear bright began to play around with his long caramel hair while the silver morning rays reminded her of where she'd seen him before;  
summer. another place. no birdsong cleansing the sky. a man of his size scared away flocks of doves and cloud congregations, but the world remained calm around him. sansa was making flower crowns for her and bran in the fields, enjoying the humid pre-storm atmosphere.  
the view from her spot was of him standing by joffrey, arms crossed and a tired look on his face while the kid shot plastic bullets into thin air. she knew them both, the blond boy having persecuted her blind teenage dreams for a long time, the hound still chasing her in her most sweat-dripping nightmares.

11\. to breathe air from someone else's lungs  
12\. to visit a city and build a new land

“you going somewhere?”  
temptation. his thumb pointing at the truck vehicle behind him.  
“no”  
reject. her eyes buried in his.  
“want me to take you away?”  
possibility. a brand new open door in his polished car, to live inside a polaroid card.  
“yes”  
spark. her eyes like fairy lights suspended over her bed.  
“hop in, little bird.”

immortality. a long way ahead.


End file.
